


Swear Not by the Moon

by unchartedsea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unchartedsea/pseuds/unchartedsea
Summary: The problem, Finn thinks, is that he doesn’t understand love.





	Swear Not by the Moon

The problem, Finn thinks, is that he doesn’t understand love.

It’s not like he’s _entirely_ clueless. He left the First Order because of FN-4285; it was grieving her that catapulted him out of his orbit and into a narrow escape. Sometimes he thinks he should give her a name—after all, he loves his name. But she’d have wanted to choose it for herself. She wasn’t affectionate or kind like his newfound friends, but she was the only person whom he could love, even a little.

He loves Rey. He loves the fierce way she tackles challenges. He loves that she sees possibility in him where he can’t. He loves her in this desperate kind of way where he’s terrified that she’ll die without him there.

And he loves Poe Dameron, too. He loves his passion and fighting spirit. He loves his cocky smiles right before launching into something reckless. He loves that he trusts Finn implicitly, even when Finn has betrayed the Resistance and may do so again.

He loves General Leia Organa, who always clings to hope, who fights every day with the conviction that she can save the galaxy.

He loves Rose Tico, who thinks with her heart above anything else, who doesn’t let the pain in her past wall her off from the people around her.

He loves the Resistance for trying to save goodness and light.

He loves his new bed for being softer.

He loves shooting down spacecraft with his friends at his side.

He loves how wide and wonderful and bizarre the galaxy is.

He loves, and loves, and loves.

 

* * *

 

So back to the problem, which started when Rose kissed him on the salt-strewn battlefield at Crait and then lost consciousness in her skimmer. With the Resistance on the move in search of a safer base, he has ample time to worry about her. He usually stays close to her stasis pod and tries to ward off his fears. Rey comes by often with meals; she hands him plates of Alderaan stew or spicy Gargon rice and chats about Ahch-To or the Force. Poe comes, too, restlessly shifting in his seat as he explains battle strategies and defense capabilities.

If Rose wakes up, she’s going to need a reply. Because Rose loves him, too, but he knows from that kiss that her love is romantic. And Finn doesn’t know kriff about that.

 

* * *

 

“I have a weird question.”

“Shoot,” Rey replies. They’re by the stasis pod, as always, Rey’s staff leaning on its side. She’s fiddling with some sort of tracker, using a tiny screw to play around with the metal parts.

“I mean, I _know_ the answer. I should know the answer. I just figured I would get your opinion on it. To be safe, you know? Like what if everyone knows something I don’t? I mean, everyone usually knows things that I don’t.”

Rey glances up so that her eyes catch his. He swallows. “Finn,” she says in a warning tone, “just say it.”

Finn clears his throat. “What do you think love is?”

Rey blinks at him, then frowns slightly. “Are you in love with Rose?”

“What? No! At least, I don’t think so. I mean, I love Rose, but not like that.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But I don’t have much experience with romance. Never got the chance, right?”

Rey returns a soft grin that cuts off his babbling. “Me neither.”

“Right.” He suddenly feels heat on his cheeks and the urge to duck his head away. “So?”

Rey pauses for a moment to ponder. He appreciates that no matter what he says, she always takes it seriously. After a moment, she says, “Love is someone you always come back for, and someone who always comes back for you.” Tears begin to glisten in her eyes.

He thinks of her life in Jakku, waiting for lonely and remote years for her parents, and his heart aches a little. He reaches out to pat her shoulder, and she smiles back at him. Then she turns back to her tracker, the two of them lapsing into thoughtful, companionable silence.

 

* * *

 

Poe bursts in as usual, waving around his hands enthusiastically. “I can’t _believe_ we didn’t think of it before. What if we don’t go to the Outer Rims? What if we make them come to us?”

Usually, Finn wants to make sense of Poe’s convoluted ideas, but today he doesn’t have the energy. Rose showed signs of worsening today. “You’re right.”

“Hey, buddy.” Poe’s noticed his mood; he’s good at that. He runs a hand along Finn’s back, and it sends a tingle down his spine. “She’ll pull through.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, heart heavy.

Poe sits across from him, draws him in with concerned eyes. “You love her?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, I do, but not like that. I just want her to be okay.”

“I know. We all do.” Poe pats his knee.

Finn decides to repeat his question. “What do you think love is?”

Poe leans back. He doesn’t need a beat before replying, “Love is what keeps the fight going. Love is everyone you want to protect at any cost.”

“Oh,” Finn says, thinking of all the friends and allies and maybe lovers that have been extinguished from Poe’s life. He wishes he had comforting words. But all he can say is, “You’re right.” It’s enough, though, because Poe smiles and his eyes crinkle at the edges and it makes Finn’s heart a little lighter. “What’s this idea?”

Poe grins. “So we start with sending two different signals…”

 

* * *

 

It’s late. Most people are asleep, but Finn has never been good at sleep. He didn’t get much of it in the First Order. He’s curled up on the window seat closest to the pod, watching the endless suspension of stars whip past them, when General Organa enters the room. “You’re up late.”

“General.” He sits up to salute her.

She shakes her head. “At this hour, Leia will do. Just forget it in the morning.”

“…Leia.” It’s strange on his tongue, like a glass of bantha milk.

She sits down next to him on the window seat. “I heard there’s a question on your mind. About love.”

He frowns. On a small ship, gossip travels faster than hyperspace. “I guess I’m curious. It’s not exactly in First Order training manuals.”

“So do you love Rose?”

“I don’t know!” Finn bursts out, exasperated. “Should I love Rose? I mean, she loves _me._ That has to count for something, right? But then again, it’s not like an obligation. If it was an obligation, that would defeat the point. What even is romance? I mean, you and Han—” He cuts himself off, mortified.

Leia offers him a kindly smile, but it’s tinged with grief. She’s the one who’s suffered innumerable losses: her husband-lover-whatever-he-was, her brother, and in essence, her wayward, cruel son. What’s Finn doing complaining to her? He wants to apologize, but she speaks first. “You’re confused. I get it. Love is confusing. It’s never the same with anyone.”

Finn sighs. “Then how am I supposed to figure it out?”

“Close your eyes.” He does. “Empty your mind of everything. Make it blank.” He tries to, breathing quietly, attempting to drown out the humming of the ship and focus on the vast canvas of space. It doesn’t work very well, but he’s no Jedi, so it’s probably good enough. “Think about this: at the end of a long day, you want to lean into their arms.”

Strong, built arms with a musky, oily scent.

Lean, wiry arms that carry a touch of distant horizons.

“You want to soothe away their worries and make them feel whole.”

Rey missing her parents.

Poe missing his friends.

“When they’re near you, your stomach flips.”

Watching Rey lift objects with the Force and wink as she catches his open-mouthed wonder.

Having Poe swing an arm around his neck and muss his hair affectionately.

“And perhaps the most distinguishing factor,” Leia says with a voice tinged with amusement, “is how much you want them to kiss you.”

The rough scrape of stubble, leaning close only to be kissed gently, sweetly.

The soft mouth grinning, tugging him in and biting his bottom lip with teasing joy.

Leia stands. “That’s all the help I can offer.” She makes to exit.

“But,” Finn says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them, “that’s two people.”

Leia turns back from the doorway and grins. “Who said it had to be just one?”

 

* * *

  

He’s unbearably self-conscious about it, like a dream where you’re naked in a room full of Wookies. His gaze goes straight through holovid messages and into fantasies of cuddling one of them under two setting suns. He stares at his crushes without subtlety, and his heart sparks up like blaster fire.

Rey is wonderfully dense, so she mostly asks if he’s doing well and tries to distract him by playing Force-related pranks. Her favorite one is to poke his shoulder while being halfway across a room. Sometimes he can’t tell if the touches are her or just his desires.

Poe is harder to read, because he likes to arch quizzical eyebrows at Finn. He might be touching Finn more than he was before, like hands on the waist or brushing arms. But he doesn’t say anything, not even when they share a bottle of Corellian whisky and wake up slumped on each other on a cabin berth.

Nobody says anything. Finn waits, emotions building like a cannon powering up to full charge.

 

* * *

 

“I mean, I barely understand love. Do you understand love? How can I like two people at one time?”

BB-8 replies in a long, chirpy series of beeps.

“You’re biased. And why’d I ask a robot anyway?”

The beeps grow agitated.

“It was a joke! No need to use that kind of language.”

More beeps.

“Fine.” Finn sighs. “I’ll consider it.”

 

* * *

 

Rose wakes up.

Finn cries into her shoulder.

She calls him a dummy, and then later that day when he apologizes for not returning her feelings, she calls him a dummy again. “Were you worrying about it for all this time?”

“I couldn’t help it,” he says sheepishly. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m strong,” she says, flicking his forehead. “And anyway, I have a friend who loves me the most. I’m happy.”

She’s a little sad, too. He knows. But they’ve all learned to live with disappointments, and he figures that this one is hardly the worst.

 

* * *

 

They make a risky landing on Lah’mu. General Organa has some people to meet in private, so the rest of them hang around outside the ship, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the springiness of the earth.

Finn has been enlisted to help Chewie tinker with the Falcon. It’s hot, sweaty work, and he takes a quick shower when they’re done. Tossing on his leather jacket, he heads outside in search of his friends.

He can make out a couple shapes perched high on a flat outcrop nearby. It’s Poe and Rey, and he’s surprised to see that they’re in a heated discussion, their voices low. He can’t make out the words, only the furrowed brows and gesticulating hands, but it’s odd. They’ve never seemed this close before.

He treks up towards them. Right when he’s nearly able to make out their words, Rey calls out, “Hurry up, Finn!”

Finn grins, hopping from boulder to boulder as he forges towards them. He hauls himself on to the outcrop. “Whew. That was a climb. Everything okay?”

Poe and Rey glance at each other with dubious expressions. It’s Poe who slaps the nearest rock and says, “Have a seat, buddy.”

Finn has a seat, feeling nervous. “Is it bad news?”

“It’s not,” Rey says quickly. “We just have a question.”

Finn doesn’t like suspense. Suspense generally bodes ill for him. “What kind of question?”

Poe leans forward and asks bluntly, “Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Finn freezes, mouth open.

Rey jumps up. “I knew it! I told you, didn’t I? He likes you!”

Poe shakes his head. “He likes _you,_ Miss Runaway. You should have seen his face when he woke up and you were gone.”

“And how about when you go tearing off on a mission? Plus the jacket thing, because the jacket is a _thing._ ”

Finn’s mind is whirling at the implications here, but he still cuts in. “Wait a second. Isn’t it normal to worry about your friends?”

They both turn to him and chorus, “Yes! But that’s not—”

“We’re talking about—”

“When you _like_ someone—”

“And BB-8 said—”

“Don’t sell out my droid—"

“Okay, hold on,” Rey cuts in. “Finn, do you like anyone romantically? Or is it just friendship?”

“Uh.” Finn hesitates, heart thudding in his ears. “I think so?”

Rey squats in front of him. “Which one?”  
  
“The romance one.”

“Right, okay. Let’s get down to it.” Poe leans closer. “Which one is it?”

“Which one is what?” Finn asks, plotting out every possible escape route from this conversation.

Poe groans in frustration, which is both anxiety-inducing and deeply sexy. “Buddy, we need an answer. Which one of us do you like?”

Finn winces. “…Both?”

Even Rey’s looking at him like he’s a few lightyears short of a parsec. “Romantically, Finn.”

He swallows. “Both.”

Poe and Rey stare at him for a long moment before Rey says faintly, “Oh.”

Finn stands up abruptly, panic setting in. “So. I have to go. Help Chewie. Right now.”

“Wait,” Poe says, reaching out to catch the sleeve of Finn’s jacket. But his words are directed to Rey. “Out of the bunch, I might have the upper hand in romance here, but I’m just saying: I can work with that.”

Rey tilts her head. “What does that mean?”

“I like Finn, you like Finn, Finn likes us. And you’re not so bad yourself. Seems pretty simple to me.”

Rey ponders this for a moment, and Finn is sure that his insides are goo by now. “So…the three of us?”

“I mean, if you’re interested.” Poe turns to Finn, thumping a hand just between his shoulder blades. “You interested, buddy?”

Finn clears his throat and tries to prevent his face from looking stupid. “Yeah,” he rasps, unable to say anything more coherent.

“And Rey?”

“I’m in to try,” she says with a conspiratorial smirk. “Do we shake hands now?”

“I had something else in mind,” Poe says, “but ladies first.” Rey laughs, crosses the gap between them, and kisses Finn until Poe says, “We’ll have to work on the sharing.”

“Sorry,” Rey says, looking as dazed as Finn feels as she gently untangles her arms from around his neck. “Have at him.”

“Hold on,” Finn says. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sorry.” Poe puts his hands on Finn’s waist. “Kiss me?”

Finn wishes he could be suave, but he’s beaming. Still, he manages to come up with, “If you insist.” Rey snorts, but only Poe’s very talented mouth can wipe the triumph off Finn’s face.

 

* * *

 

He catches the traitor rolling out of the Falcon and lets go of two hands to chase after it.

“BB-8! You ratted me out!”

A long series of beeps.

“Oh, don’t give me that.”

A rapid burst of indignant beeping.

“Well, don’t analyze my heart rate then!”

A short burst of beeps, the last one jumping up in pitch.

“Yeah.” Finn kneels and grins down at BB-8, patting his smooth robot head. “I figured it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I had no stake in this after The Force Awakens. But after The Last Jedi, I am all in for the poly relationship of our dreams! No slight to my girl Rose, who also deserves all the love. 
> 
> Also known as another impulsive fluff fic, in case I haven't written enough already. Gotta give the people (me) what they (I) want.


End file.
